Hold On Tight
Joa Lestrange stood in front of the large, ornate mirror in her bedroom, gazing at her reflection with a mix of determination and dread. She had spent the morning preparing for her trip to Diagon Alley, her first venture into the wider wizarding world since she had received her letter from Hogwarts. The letter that had changed everything. Around her, the house-elves were fussing nervously, their tiny hands adjusting the folds of her cloak, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, and offering whispered words of encouragement. Despite their efforts, the nervous energy in the room was palpable, a reflection of the unease that gripped Joa’s heart. Her voluminous, black cloak completely covered her wiry frame, shrouding her face in darkness, something she hoped would make her trip to Diagon Alley go smoothly. She wanted to shield herself from prying eyes, not that there were any here in the isolated manor.
“Mistress Joa, are you sure you should be going alone?” one of the elves, a particularly old and wizened creature asked in a tremulous voice. His large, bat-like ears twitched with anxiety, and his bulging eyes were filled with concern.
“Oui.” Joa replied, her voice steady despite the knot of fear tightening in her chest. “I need to do this by myself.”
The words felt hollow even as she spoke them. Joa was afraid—terrified, in fact. But she knew that she couldn’t hide away in Lestrange Manor forever, that she couldn’t let the ghosts of her mother’s past dictate her future. She had to face the world, to confront the fear and hatred that would undoubtedly greet her as soon as she stepped outside the safety of her home. The elf wrung his hands, his wrinkled face creased with worry.
“But Mistress, the world… it’s not kind to your family. They might not… they might not understand.”
“They don’t have to understand,” Joa said, pulling her hood up over her wild curls, obscuring her face in shadow. “Anyway… I’m not going to draw attention, I’ll have my cloak on. Je promets.”
The other house-elves nodded in agreement, their faces solemn as they watched Joa prepare herself for the journey ahead. She could see the fear in their eyes, the same fear that had haunted them ever since her mother had been sent to Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange’s name had become synonymous with terror, and Joa knew that she bore the weight of that legacy. Taking a deep breath, Joa reached for her small, battered trunk, the same one she had packed the night before with a few possessions. She had been careful to include everything she might need—an old, tattered robe that had once belonged to her mother, a few books, and a pouch of coins that she had found hidden away in one of the manor’s many secret compartments, just enough for her to buy a ride on the knight bus to London. She wore the serpent pendant around her neck like a lifeline, as long as it was with her she would be fine.
With the trunk in hand, Joa made her way downstairs, the house-elves trailing after her like a worried entourage. The manor was silent as always, the only sound was the soft shuffle of her boots against the cold, stone floor. She reached the front door and paused, her hand hovering over the handle as she took one last look around the dark, empty hallways that had been her home for as long as she could remember. It felt strange, leaving the safety of the manor behind, even if only for a few hours. But Joa knew that she couldn’t stay hidden away forever. She had to face the world, to prove to herself that she could survive in it. With a final nod to the house-elves, Joa opened the door and stepped outside, the cool morning air biting at her cheeks as she descended the steps to the road ahead.
Joa walked for what felt like hours, and it probably was but she knew she had to. She didn’t want to summon the Knight Bus directly to the Lestrange manor, that wouldn’t even give her a chance at going unnoticed. The world would immediately know that Bellatrix had a daughter and Joa doubted the world would react kindly to that. That is why Joa spent hours walking along the dark path, overgrown and unkempt, a testament to the neglect the estate had suffered since the fall of the Dark Lord. Joa followed the path until she reached the edge of the grounds, where the forest eventually thinned out into a narrow road, a good enough distance away from the manor Joa thought.
Joa had read about how to summon the Knight Bus in one of her books, but reading and doing were two different things. She shifted on her feet, feeling the nervous energy start to build in her chest.
“Stick out your wand arm,” she muttered to herself, recalling the instructions she had read in the Lestrange library. She did as she remembered, holding her right arm out into the empty road. For a moment, there was nothing, only the cold air pressing against her face and the quiet of the early morning. From nowhere, the sound of distant thunder rumbled through the sky, though there were no clouds, and suddenly, with a deafening BANG, the Knight Bus appeared out of thin air, screeching to a halt just a few feet away from where Joa stood. It was a tall, violently purple triple-decker bus with large, golden lettering emblazoned across the front.
THE KNIGHT BUS
Joa took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest as the doors flew open with a hiss of air, and a gangly young conductor in a garish, purple uniform jumped out, a wide grin plastered across his face.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard!” the man said, his voice loud and chipper, as though he were announcing the arrival of a long-lost friend. “My name’s Stan Shunpike, and I’ll be your conductor this evenin’! Where can we take you, miss?”
Joa hesitated for a moment, her hand gripping the handle of her trunk tightly. She kept her one functional eye downcast, her hood obscuring most of her face from the man’s too eager gaze. "Diagon Alley please" she mumbled, her voice barely audible, a melodic, french sound despite her never visiting her ancestral homeland.
The conductor looked her over with a curious eye. “Diagon Alley, eh? That’s a popular one this time o’ year, it is. Startin’ Hogwarts soon, are ya? Ya got that first year look about ya if you don’t mind me saying miss”
Joa stiffened. Her left hand clutched the front of her cloak, pulling it tighter around her, while her right tightened on the wand beneath it. She had expected this question, knew it was inevitable, but the reality of it still set her on edge.
“Oui,” she replied, her voice a low murmur. “I am”
Stan didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. He grinned even wider, if that were possible, and stepped aside to let her onto the bus.
“Always easy to spot the ones heading there for the first time, ya know. Got that look about them, all nervous and excited. Not you, though.” His eyes narrowed slightly, a curious glint in them. “Bit quiet, aren’t ya?” Hop on, hop on. We’ll have ye at Diagon Alley in a jiffy.”
Joa climbed aboard the bus, her heart hammering in her chest. The interior was just as chaotic as she had imagined—beds and chairs strewn about, chandeliers swinging precariously overhead and none of it even slightly colour coordinated. She made her way to the nearest empty seat after handing the overly-enthusiastic conductor fourteen Sickles, eleven for the fare and three extra because who wouldn’t want a cup of hot chocolate for the ride?
That question was answered as the bus lurched forward with another deafening BANG, throwing Joa back against her seat, the scenery outside blurred into a dizzying whirl of colours and lights, the world beyond the windows reduced to a chaotic swirl that caused Joa’s stomach to churn. ‘Definitely shouldn’t have bought the hot chocolate’ Joa realised, though she had already paid for it.
"Ya know," Stan said, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort on the bus, "ya remind me o' someone. Can't quite place it, but there's somethin' about ya. Can't quite put me finger on it, but it's there. What's yer name anyhow?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Joa tensed, her grip tightening on the edge of her cloak. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to give him any more information than necessary. But she could feel his eyes on her, waiting, expecting a response. She swallowed hard, knowing she should keep her answers brief, not giving away anything that she doesn’t need to share.
“Joa.” She said, not wanting to reveal her obvious secret. Stan nodded, seemingly fortunately satisfied with her brief answer. Unfortunately for Joa, Stan was a lot more verbose than any of her distant family and so was forced to listen to his ongoing attempt to converse with her, either ignorant or just lacking regard for Joa’s discomfort.
"Joa, eh? Unusual name, that. Not one I've heard before. But I suppose there's a lotta unusual names at Hogwarts. You'll fit right in, I'm sure."
The bus jerked suddenly to the left, sending a couple of passengers sliding across their seats. Stan grabbed onto a handrail to steady himself, still grinning as if this were all part of the adventure. Joa clutched the armrests tighter, her heart racing in her chest. She had never been on the Knight Bus before, and she already knew she’d rather walk to London than ride it again.. The constant jerking and swerving made her feel uneasy, and the noise was almost overwhelming. Her hood slightly slipped off, exposing half off her face, her barely controllable hair blowing inside the rapidly turning bus, her thin lips in a grimace.
"Ya know," he said, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful, "there's somethin' about ya. Somethin' familiar. Like I seen ya before. Can't quite place it, but it's there.”
Joa felt a chill run down her spine. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, trying to see beneath the hood of her cloak. She turned her head away, staring out the window, as she recovered her face. She didn’t want to be recognized. She didn’t want to be known.
Before he could ask any more questions, the bus finally screeched to a halt suddenly, throwing Joa forward in her seat. She braced herself against the armrest, her heart pounding in her chest. Stan turned, a mad grin plastered across his face.
“Diagon Alley, miss. Told ya we’d be here in a jiff. Not even midday.”
Joa wasted no time. She stood up quickly, pulling her hood even lower over her face, and made her way to the door.
“Merci” Joa said quietly, handing back her undrunk hot chocolate as she disembarked with her trunk, thankful to be away from Stan and his questions. In truth Joa was just thankful to be back on solid ground as the Knight Bus sped off at a sickening speed, the cobbled street providing a sense of balance Joa had never quite appreciated so much as right now.
Turning away from the street, Joa saw the Leaky Cauldron was right behind her. Well she assumed based on descriptions she had heard of it. She was on Charing Cross Road, in front of a broken down, old pub next to a muggle record, or music shop. It was definitely something like that. Just as Joa was wondering if she was really in the right place, the largest man she had ever seen, with a great, big, bushy beard walked past her and right into the building with a bespectacled boy who had almost an equally messy head of hair as her, almost. She decided to follow them after a minute, staying outside would be a waste of time she needed for her shopping, as Stan said, it was almost midday.
Entering the Leaky Cauldron, the door was slightly stiffer than Joa expected, a lot stiffer than that giant man had found the door by any means. Joa used her shoulder as leverage and the door opened slightly, revealing a crowd of people gathered by the door, surrounding the giant and the bespectacled boy for some reason unknown to her. She managed to barge her way in and slink around the edge of the crowded room to the barman who on her request pointed to a door where Joa could find her way to Diagon Alley. Exiting out the back, she tapped the correct brick, and the wall opened up revealing Diagon Alley to Joa for the first time.
Diagon Alley was alive with colour, sound, and movement. The cobblestone streets were lined with shops, each one more wondrous than the last. Witches and wizards of all ages moved through the crowds, some in flowing robes, others in more modern attire, but all exuding an air of excitement and purpose. Joa’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sights around her. To her right was a shop with a display of cauldrons, stacked in a pyramid of gleaming brass and iron. To her left, a large, ornate window showcased a collection of brooms, each one hovering slightly off the ground, as if eager to take flight. The air was filled with the chatter of shoppers, the whoosh of owls delivering messages, and the distant sounds of magical objects at work.
For a moment, Joa felt overwhelmed by the sheer vibrancy of it all. This was so far removed from the silent, oppressive atmosphere of Lestrange Manor that it almost felt like a dream. But as the initial shock wore off, her curiosity began to take over. There was so much to see, so much to explore. She wandered down the street, her eye wide as she took in the displays. A shop selling spell books caught her attention, and she made a mental note to return later. Another shop, filled with an array of strange and exotic creatures, made her pause in fascination. She had always been drawn to the unknown, to the strange and mysterious, and Diagon Alley was teeming with both. First she’d have to get some money from Gringotts, then she could explore.
Gringotts Bank loomed ahead, its towering white marble building an imposing presence against the blue sky. The entrance to Gringotts was guarded by a pair of hulking goblins, their eyes glinting with a shrewd intelligence as they scrutinised each visitor. Joa's heart quickened slightly, but her exterior remained unmoved. She had heard tales of Gringotts and its formidable security, stories that had only fueled her fascination with the place.
As she stepped inside, the vast marble hall of Gringotts opened up before her. The high ceilings and gleaming chandeliers cast a dim light over the rows of counters, each manned by a goblin busily weighing coins or inspecting parchments with meticulous attention. Joa’s eye darted around, taking in the sight. She had heard about Gringotts from her relatives, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience. The bank felt ancient, a place full of secrets and hidden dangers. Joa couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease beneath her excitement. Joa realised her mouth was agape and she shut it.
Reminding herself of why she was there, she approached the nearest counter where a goblin with a hooked nose and a pinstripe waistcoat was scribbling furiously in a ledger. Joa patiently waited for the goblin to finish writing whatever important business it was attending to. After a few moments, he looked up from his ledger.
"Welcome to Gringotts," he rasped, his voice a gravelly echo. "State your business."
“Je voudrais accéder à mon coffre-fort familial, s'il vous plaît,” Joa said with a hint of excitement seeping through into her soft, melodic voice. This is the first time she’s met a goblin before.
“Do you have your key?” The goblin asked, its eyes slightly narrowing.
“Oui.” Joa knelt down and opened her trunk to which the goblin slightly huffed, clearly expecting her to have been more prepared to hand over her key. Joa reached in the pocket of her mother’s cloak, folded in the trunk and pulled out a key before closing her trunk back again.
She gave the small, ornate key to the goblin, who took it with a gloved hand and inspected it closely. His eyes flicked back up to hers, and for a moment, Joa felt a stab of fear. 'Did he recognize her? Did he know who she was?'
But the goblin merely nodded and handed the key back to her. If he had recognised her, he did not care to make it a spectacle, for which Joa was grateful.
“Follow me,” he said curtly, stepping down from his high stool and leading her toward a door at the far end of the hall. Joa followed closely, her heart still racing. The goblin led her through a series of winding corridors, the air growing colder and damper the deeper they went. The walls were lined with flickering torches that cast eerie shadows, making the narrow passages feel even more claustrophobic but Joa was too excited to notice. After several minutes walking, they reached a small stone chamber where a rail track stretched out before them into the darkness. A small cart was waiting, its metal sides glinting in the torchlight. The goblin climbed in first, gesturing for Joa to do the same. She hesitated for a moment, glancing down the seemingly endless track, but then steeled herself and climbed in beside him, having to leave her trunk behind.
With a sudden lurch, the cart shot forward, speeding down the tracks at an alarming pace. The wind whipped through Joa’s hair, pulling her hood off her hair as she gripped onto the cart for dear life. The ride was rough, jolting and swerving as they twisted and turned deeper into the depths of Gringotts but somehow was less nauseating than the Knight Bus. After what felt like an eternity but was most likely a few minutes at most, the cart began to slow down, its wheels screeching as it came to a standstill. The goblin hopped out and opened the door for Joa who staggered out, a little disoriented from the cart ride.
“Follow me,” the goblin said and proceeded to walk towards an large open room, grand columns holding up an intricately designed ceiling depicting a raven spreading its wings filling the ceiling high above Joa.
“My apologies Madame Lestrange but we are currently replacing the security dragon that is meant to guard your family’s vault. The old one was… not viscous enough,” he said with a menacing, toothy grin.
“C-C'est bon,” Joa replied, a hint of nervousness breaking through her calm demeanour. Joa could only imagine what might lie within the Lestrange vault if it needs a dragon to guard it. Treasures? Dark artefacts? Cursed objects? She couldn’t help but wonder but for now she decided to stick to her task. She just needed to get the money for her school supplies and get out. One day though, one day she would come back and examine everything.
They came to a massive set of two iron doors which were carved with serpentine patterns winding across the cold, iron surfaces where there was no visible keyhole to ruin the door’s perfect detail. The goblin stepped forward and held out her key to her.
“Place your key here,” he gestured to a small indentation on the left door. Joa did as she was told, pressing the key into the indentation. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a loud, grinding noise, the doors began to open, opening outwards as the torches inside lit up, seemingly of their own volition revealing what treasures lay in wait. She stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the vault. The air inside was cold and stale, the vault not having been opened in a decade.
The Lestrange vault was massive, far larger than she had anticipated. It was filled with piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins, stacks of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts glinting in the dim light. Joa’s eye widened at the sight, she had known the Lestrange family was wealthy, but seeing it in person was something else entirely. But it wasn’t the gold that took Joa’s interest, it was the shelves upon shelves lined with books and ancient tomes, their spines cracked and worn with age leaving the titles barely, if at all legible. There were glass cases containing strange, arcane objects—jewellery that seemed to pulse with an inner light, daggers with blades that glowed faintly in the darkness, a collection of wands that looked far too dangerous to touch as well as many more things Joa could not identify. She was speechless. It was going to take a long time to go through everything, not just one day as Joa had naively thought earlier. She quickly and efficiently scooped up and filled her pockets with Galleons, way more than enough to buy her school supplies.
As she turned to leave, her eye landed on a large, ornate chest that was right at the back of the vault, its surface covered in runes and symbols that resembled nothing Joa had ever seen before. She felt a strange compulsion to move toward it, her feet carrying her forward almost of their own accord. She could feel her hand reaching out, her fingers brushing against the cold metal of the chest. Immediately she felt a dark, twisted energy that sent a chill down her spine, emanating from within and Joa immediately knew it contained something maleficent.
She was looking at the runes, hoping to identify even just one when she heard a faint whisper, so soft she almost thought she had imagined it. Joa froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the vault, but there was no one there. Just the piles of gold and the strange, arcane objects.
The whisper came again, clearer this time, a soft, sibilant voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Open it…”
Joa took a sharp intake of breath, surely she was imagining things as a shiver ran down her spine. Surely a chest couldn’t talk? But where else could the voice be coming from? She stood beside the ominous chest as the hypnotic voice spoke once more.
“Open it…”
Despite her instincts telling her to leave it, Joa’s curiosity won this battle and she put her hands on the cold metal box. ‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,’ Joa thought to herself as she flipped the two latches and opened the lid, the hinges creaking. The sound echoed around the lifeless vault like a ghostly whisper.
Inside, nestled in a bed of deep blue velvet was a small, intricately carved cup. It was made of solid gold with two finely wrought handles that curved gracefully on either side but the most interesting thing about it was the small, badger-shaped engraving that was etched into the front. Joa recognised the emblem immediately. This was the lost cup of Helga Hufflepuff, a fabled treasure of one of the founders of Hogwarts. How on Earth did it end up in the Lestrange vault? She had heard stories about the cup, tales of its legendary properties and its supposed ability to enhance the abilities of those who were worthy. She could feel the magic radiating from it, an ancient, potent energy that seemed to hum in the air around her. It was different from the dark, twisted power she’d sensed from other objects in the vault. This was something older, deeper—pure, almost.
She reached out, her fingers hovering over the cup. She knew she should leave it alone, close the chest and walk away. But she couldn’t resist. The urge to touch it, to feel its magic, was overwhelming. Slowly, almost reverently, she wrapped her fingers around one of the handles. As soon as she grasped hold of it, she felt a sharp jolt of pain. Joa gasped, nearly dropping the cup. She felt a searing heat radiate from the cup into her hand, spreading up her arm. It was as if the cup were alive, fighting against her touch, rejecting her. She tried to let go, to drop the cup back into the chest, but her fingers wouldn’t obey. They seemed locked around the handle, clenched tight in a grip she couldn’t release. The pain intensified, searing up her arm, and Joa bit back a scream, her knees buckling beneath her and finally she released it back into the chest which slammed shut.
Joa gasped for breath, holding back tears as her vision swam from the aftershocks of the pain. She rolled up her sleeve and saw no visible marks, it was as if nothing had happened but she was still in pain. Eventually it stopped and Joa managed to catch her breath, calming down unlike her mind which was racing with questions. Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup. A relic of one of the founders of Hogwarts. But why was it in the Lestrange vault? And why did it feel so… alive?
She turned and made her way back to the vault door, her steps quick and purposeful. She could still hear the whispers in her mind, still feel the pull of the chest telling her to open it, but she forced herself to focus. She needed to get out. She needed to get back to the surface, out of the vault before anything else happened.
The goblin was waiting for her back by the cart, his expression as impassive as ever. Joa climbed in without a word, her mind still reeling from what she had just experienced. The ride back through the tunnels was a blur, the twists and turns passing by in a dizzying rush. She barely noticed. Her thoughts were consumed by the cup, by the strange energy she had felt. When the cart finally came to a stop, Joa stepped out and grabbed her trunk which was waiting for her. She thanked the goblin, giving him two galleons for his time before she reached the main hall of Gringotts which was now bustling with people. She didn’t put her hood back up as she stepped out into Diagon Alley.